


Wet

by Lightspeed



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/F, Roleplay, Rule 63, Skinny Dipping, Swimming, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-13 17:25:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/826872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miss Pauling visits the RED base at Sawmill in the late evening on a hot, humid, muggy day, and finds Scout gone.  She seeks her out, and takes some time to observe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wet

“What do you mean, you don't know where Scout is?” Miss Pauling balked, her grip on her clipboard growing white-knuckled tight.

Spy rolled her eyes and exhaled the smoke from her cigarette out the window beside her, watching it curl away into the humid air, her eyes lingering a moment before turning back to her supervisor. “It is my job to keep tabs on the opposition, not my own errant teammates, is it not, Mademoiselle? It is like I said, after the day's fighting was done, she made for her room, exited with her bag stuffed full of something. Fabric, from the way the bag bulged. Last I saw she was leaving the barracks, hefting a cooler with her as well.”  
“Which way did she go?” Pauling was in no mood to go fetch the loud-mouthed runner. Hell, she was in no mood to be doing an inspection in the first place. Sawmill, usually an even-temperatured, comfortable location to visit, had found itself smack in the middle of a brutal heat wave, accompanied by humidity heretofore unseen outside of the pits of hell.

Spy made a noncommittal gesture, her eyes flicking back out the window. “Once I saw she was off on some tear, I decided I had better things to do. I do remember Soldier saying something about her heading out to the point. Said she was a vigilant combatant; reprimanded us for being layabouts or some such nonsense. You know how she gets after a fight.” She raised her eyebrow, tilting her head down to look up at the smaller woman as if to ask if they were done.

Pauling chewed on the information for a moment before nodding, and turning on her heel. “Thank you, Spy. I'll be back for the inspection once the team is together. Make sure you're not occupied.”

“Moi, occupied? What mischief could I possibly be getting up to out here in the woods?”

“Sniper's quarters are opposite that window you keep looking out. You're not a very subtle peeper.” With that, Pauling left.

Spy scowled, leaning her chin heavily on the heel of her palm. Sullenly, she turned to look back out the window, only to find the show she'd been distracted from had ended. Sniper had finished changing and left the room. She stubbed out her cigarette on the bare wood of the table and flicked it out the window angrily. “Merde.”

 

Sweat beaded on Pauling's forehead and in every location where her body creased as she strode hurriedly across the battlefield. Having left the slightly-more temperature-controlled confines of RED's creaky old base, the head and humidity came crashing down on her, making her light cotton dress feel like being mummified in latex and wool. She debated pulling out the knife she always kept hidden and shaving her head.

Feeling moisture running down the backs of her knees, the mousy woman set her jaw, her pretty lips in a furious frown. Scout was going to pay for making her come out here on this chase.

Splashing.

She heard splashing outside the building that housed the control point. Gathering herself up, she strode out the side door and down the stairs beside it, cresting around one of the outbuildings to find a small, red cooler sitting unattended save for the black duffel bag beside it, a pile of clothing and a few empty cans of Bonk strewn on the grass around it. Water thundered down over the bluff that peeked out of the woods, dropping over the short cliff to the pond it had hammered in below, a few stray logs laid across on stones to form a makeshift bridge. The water rippled and lapped at its small shores in the shadows, moonlight and the nearby lights of the mill twinkling off of the surface in white ribbons against the darkness.

Narrowing her eyes to see in the inky night, Pauling spied movement in the pond. A long, slender arm, shining in the moonlight, broke the surface of the water, followed by another; a leisurely backstroke propelling a slim body through the pool. With graceful, lazy movements, the figure made its way to the shore, climbing out on her hands and knees beside the cooler, reaching in to snatch another soda from inside. It was Scout, undoubtedly.  
Muscular arms and shoulders, built to bludgeon and maim, supported a slim frame wrapped in lean muscle. A pair of meager, yet perky breasts didn't so much as hang as stand against her chest, nipples erect as the night air chilled the water clinging to them. Pauling found her eyes lingering lower, following the barely-lit ripple of the mercenary's abs to the darkness between thick, built thighs. The runner stuck her tight bottom out, wiggling it to some tune she hummed quietly to herself as she cracked open her soda. Powerful legs flexed as she leaned back onto her knees, sitting on her heels, to take a deep swig from the can of Bonk. Her hair was plastered to her shoulders and back, tight against her head, a sleek outline in the scant lighting. Watching the lines of her back, sides, and shoulders in the night, the water dripping slowly from her breasts, Pauling found herself entranced. Scout was a loud, obnoxious girl, but the older woman couldn't help but admit to herself that the runner was gorgeous.

A strong hand found its way slowly down Scout's torso, her fingers tracing a line down belly and abdomen to the space between her legs. A quiet sigh escaped her as she began to slowly rub at herself. Leaning forward, the heel of her hand in the grass, fingers wrapped around the can of Bonk, she shut her eyes tight, lips parting as her breaths grew heavy and deep. Dextrous digits rubbed circles against the warm nub of her clit, shivers rippling through her with each pass. Low moans came next, fingers dipping inside, sliding into her pussy, curling just right to make her shudder. She pictured eyes in the darkness, watching her, studying every line of her body, every trembling movement, narrowing in approval as needy groans dropped from her lips. She pictured the show she was giving, and let go of her soda, dropping forward into the grass to press her shoulders against the ground, both hands between her thighs. One set of fingers drove inside of her, filling her, touching her intimately, while the other circled her clit in fast, rough motions. Scout was a master of speed, and everything she did was fast. Panting into the grass, her needful moans oozing into the land, she lifted her bottom to the night, showing her nethers to her imagined observer, a full, perfect view of her self-penetration, of her self-pleasure.

Watching breathlessly as Scout masturbated, Pauling found her knees growing weak, her face growing flushed, a growing moisture between her thighs. She wished for a night-vision camera; something to capture this beautiful, perfect moment as the light hit her just right to afford a perfect view.

Driving her fingers deep inside, the mercenary shuddered, her whole body wracked with tremors as her orgasm came loud and hard, rocking her for moments unending before leaving her gasping and boneless in the dirt. She slumped onto her side then rolled to her back, dragging her fingers through the surf, her belly rising and falling with deep, rapid, sated breaths.

Moments unending passed, the pounding roar of the waterfall filling the air where the music of Scout's ecstasy had left a void. Finally, the runner stirred, sitting up, licking her lips. She snatched up the can of Bonk beside her and chugged the rest down. When she was finished, she crumpled the can in her hand a little, then, in a fit of sudden inspiration, crunched the thing against her forehead with a loud, whooping laugh that rattled off of the cliff nearby.

The snicker that erupted from Scout's observer ricocheted off of the outbuildings, off of the cliff, and into the night air. The naked mercenary's eyes snapped wide open, her whole body going tense. She reached under the pile of clothes and withdrew a pistol, jumping to her feet. She aimed into the darkness, her peaceful retreat from the team and the heat interrupted. She had been watched after all. “Who's 'ere? Show yerself!”

Pauling retreated back behind the building, clapping a hand silently over her mouth. How could she have let herself be caught? She knew better, she was trained better. She had been caught ogling one of her employees. She took a deep breath to steel herself. Time for the game face.

“Look, if I have ta come ova' there, you ain't gonna like it! Now get out here or I just start firin' until my mag runs out, then I come ova' there and pistol whip you inta red paste, ya Chucklefuck!”

“Scout, why aren't you at the base for inspection?”  
Scout froze, gulping reflexively. The high-pitched, soothing voice of her direct boss carried clearly over the rumble of the waterfall. She lowered the pistol. “Miss Pauling?”  
Stepping out into the light from around the corner, Pauling held her clipboard to her chest, a glower clear on her delicate features. Her displeasure was apparent even in the darkness. She hoped the shadows would hide the burning in her cheeks. “Do you realize how dangerous it is to be out in the battlefield after hours?”  
“I, um, uh, I,” Scout stammered, backpedaling literally and figuratively, her feet splashing back into the pond.

“This is a war zone, Scout. If their Sniper caught sight of you?” She let the idea sit in the air without conclusion, allowing the mercenary to fill in the details with her mind.

“But it's just so hot today, Miss P! I'm out there runnin' my sweet ass off, sweatin' bullets, eatin' bullets, an' then we get back ta the base an' it's just frickin' humid an' awful an' how am I supposed ta relax, or even sleep in this?” She gestured to the air around her like it meant anything, her body still dripping, pistol in one hand.

The smaller woman tried to keep her eyes from wandering along Scout's body, to keep from staring. She was lean, lithe muscle incarnate, athletic. Not a trace of hair could be found below her neck, shorn clean, the water left with nothing to cling to but her rising goosebumps. The taller woman seemed to become aware of her own persistent nudity as she caught the direction of Miss Pauling's gaze. “So, you like what you see?”

Pauling nearly jumped out of her skin. “What?”

“It's okay ta stare, I know it's hard not ta.” She flexed her bicep, admiring it.

“Scout, what would make you think I'm interested in you, let alone women?” Pauling tried to deflect the younger woman.

“Well, at the last big company meeting I was talkin' ta the scout over at 2fort, and he said he's been tryin' for years ta get you ta notice him. An' well, I figure if you can turn down that hot piece of ass, then you must not be in the market for the masculine, if ya get me. An' considerin' the fact that your eyes ain't left my tits since you got out here, I'm assumin' you been watchin' me.”

“Your powers of deduction are impressive.”

Scout clicked the safety on her pistol and tossed it lightly onto the pile of clothes beside the cooler. Walking toward the smaller woman, a broad grin crossed her lips. “Don't hurt that yer bright red. Light's pretty good from this angle.” She pointed upward at a light attached to a nearby outbuilding, illuminating the voyeur far better than it did the pond and its swimmer.

“Scout, I,” Pauling began, cut off as Scout approached, grabbing hold of her hand. Cold, wet fingers wrapped around her own, covered in sweat as they were.

“Come on, Miss P. Have a swim wit' me. You look like yer gonna keel over in this heat.”

Pauling smiled, unwilling to keep up the charade any further. “Sure.” Clothing was shed, a cute purple dress, a cotton bra and panties, socks, shoes, and cat-eye glasses sat atop a disused clipboard in a pile beside Scout's uniform and pistol. Soon enough, cold, crisp water was enveloping hot, sticky skin, cleansing it instantly in blessed relief.

“You know there's probably a better way ta go about this kinda thing than sneakin' off base all the time to screw around in the field,” Scout posited, wrapping her arms around the smaller woman the second they hit the water. Her hands found their way to Pauling's hips, sliding around soft skin to squeeze her bottom.

“You're right, but then we couldn't do things like this.” She splashed a bit for emphasis, capturing Scout's lips in a short, lingering kiss.

“Yeah, yer lucky I get off on bein' looked at. That was fun.”

“I had a feeling you'd like that. So, did you really talk to the scout at 2fort about me?”

“Oh him? Yeah, good guy. Cute, too.”

“Be careful what you say. I can have you reassigned.”

“What? I can look, just not touch, right?”

“Who said you could look?”  
“You're stone cold, Miss P.”

“Shut up; I want to put your mouth to better use. How long can you hold your breath?”

**Author's Note:**

> requested by an anonymous Tumblr user


End file.
